Only Lonely
by T.R. Samuels
Summary: Cameron decides to intervene before John makes a terrible mistake with Riley. Set during "Mr. Ferguson Is Ill Today". Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**NOTES**: Takes place during "Mr. Ferguson Is Ill Today", though diverges somewhat from the aired version. It could be considered a sequel to my previous story "The Uncanny Valley", but it is not necessary to have read it.

**SUMMARY**: Cameron decides to intervene before John makes a terrible mistake with Riley.

**DISCLAIMER**: All characters herein are the property of someone other than me. No profit has been earned.

* * *

"**Only Lonely"  
Chapter 1  
****T.R. Samuels**

Cameron didn't like Riley. Not from the moment she had first encountered her; in her house, handling her ice-cream, talking to John.

Every meaningful encounter Cameron had with him now seemed, in someway or another, tainted by her influence. She didn't like it. The way things were before were far more agreeable; when she and John sat together and did homework, when he asked her advice and taught her about his strange human foibles that she did not comprehend.

Despite the girl's undeniable guilt, Cameron knew that she herself were not free from blame. The incident after the car bomb was regrettable to say the least, though ultimately John had not been harmed. Why human's insisted on clinging to what might have been, rather than what was, greatly confused her.

She watched the two of them from the balcony, engaging in some meaningless discourse, oblivious to her presence as the girl caught his hand in hers and began entwining their fingers. A sensation flared inside her, one she had felt before, something unpleasant but as of yet undefined. Touching between them seemed to trigger it; as did talking and occupying the same location.

Riley was such a bitch-whore. Cameron knew what that meant now; she'd been on John's computer and Googled it. There had been a remarkable number of hits, but the definition was clear. If bitch-whore were in the dictionary, right next to it would be its definition, which is what Riley most certainly was.

She watched as their hands slipped apart and they said their respective good nights before Riley wheeled her bike to the end of the driveway and rode off into the distance. When Cameron could no longer see her she made her way down to the back yard, the thick gravel a satisfying crunch beneath her feet as she approached the garage where Sarah Connor was working.

"I'll talk to John." Despite her obvious failings, Cameron recognised Sarah's position as the alpha human and appreciated her contributions to the protection of John, though she assigned far more value to the psychological comfort she provided him.

Sarah seemed almost disinterested as she continued her activities. "John's not listening."

"John's always listening."

Cameron turned on her heel and returned to the house where she was quickly navigating its upstairs landing, calculating the wisdom of what she was about to do as she stopped outside John's room; the place her primary mission seemed to spend an inordinate amount of his time.

What she was considering was a calculated risk. Despite her intimate knowledge of his psychology in the future, she knew that _this_ John was quiet different from the man she knew. A diamond in the rough, still bound by his adolescent limitations, she was not entirely certain how he would react.

Deciding upon her course she slipped the jacket from her shoulders, discarding it nearby and knocked on the door. Receiving no answer she paused for a moment before proceeding inside, finding John sprawled on his bed. Curiously he was without the headphones he enjoyed using at a detrimental volume and looked strangely contemplative.

"Are you busy?"

"No."

She tried to gauge his reaction, but lately he had become very good at concealing his true feelings. She closed the door behind her and advanced, detecting the change in his attitude as he eyed her up and down.

"Did you change?"

"It's hot out."

Finally detecting his growing tension she made her final approach.

"Since when do you feel heat?"

"I feel heat."

She mounted the bed, sliding down beside him in as fluidic a motion as possible, pleased when he moved to accommodate her presence rather than bolt from the mattress as she had feared. They had not been this physically close for a long time, and certainly never in so intimate a manner.

"Are you hoping that Riley's gonna see us in bed together and be totally scarred for the rest of her life or something?"

She considered it for all of a nanosecond. "Yes."

John's planned retort died in his throat and he stared at her, caught somewhere between surprise and outrage. "Excuse me?!"

"If Riley found us in bed together she would most likely disassociate herself from you."

He released a sardonic laugh, his brow furrowing in anger. "I realise you and mom have already decided she's an 'unacceptable risk'. It's just about the only thing I've seen you guy's agree on."

"That's true. My relationship with your mother has improved lately. I suppose I could thank Riley for that."

John fumed. "Riley's not a bad person, y'know! You could be a little nicer to her! Bond with her a little!"

The only bonding Cameron wanted to do with Riley involved duct tape.

"I'm certain she is. That's not at issue."

"Then what is?"

Cameron paused, looking him in the eye, granting her next words all the gravity she could promote before speaking in the gentle, curious manner she knew he liked. "Every moment you spend with her, the more endangered she becomes. I understand that you desire companionship, but you shouldn't do so at the expense of her life."

Whatever angry rejoinder John had bubbling away ebbed as fast as it had grown. The truth of her words a reality that deep down he had long since concluded. Denial was a powerful thing. He tried to rekindle the fire he had felt only moments ago, but felt only the crushing weight of the truth as it quickly hollowed out that familiar chasm inside him. He turned his head away as he felt the walls contract around his soul and a tear slide down his cheek.

Cameron watched the emotional parade that passed through him. How his anger had turned so quickly into surrender and despair. She sometimes wondered what it would be like to feel something that intensely.

Warm fingers, far warmer than John had imagined, gently captured his jaw and turned his face toward her. There was a curiosity in her eyes so very unbecoming a machine as her hand cupped his cheek, stroking the tears away as she lifted herself with her other arm, rising over him, fixing him with bottomless mocha eyes.

He felt like something being intensely scrutinized, but Cameron's studies into his nature had never really made him uncomfortable. Quite the contrary, he had always found them to be strangely intimate. He had supposed it was something to do with being seen at his most vulnerable, something his mother had mantra'd out of him at some point and had now evolved into a strange form of titillation.

Cameron moved her fingers without thinking, down his cheek and over his mouth, feeling the change in texture. Her fascination with him was something she had always found most peculiar about herself, how she so often desired to exceed the basics of her mandate and explorer the mysteries of John Connor. Since her creation by Skynet he had been the centre of her entire existence, first to destroy, then to protect. Now it seemed, to fascinate over.

"What are you doing?" There was no accusation in his tone.

She stopped her explorations, meeting his eyes again, answering as honestly as she could. "I don't know."

It was during these moments that John liked Cameron the most; that childlike curiosity, the peculiar questions, and above all; how strange and wonderful it was to hear a machine say such things. It made him forget, just for a moment, what she really was and not what he had always wanted her to be.

"You'll never be alone so long as I'm around, John. And I'll always be around."

"You hope."

"I know," Her certainty was a lifeline. "I understand."

"What do you understand?"

"You and I talk about it a lot."

"We do?"

"We do. We will."

Sometimes John felt uncomfortable when she talked about them in the future. Imagining what could have gone on. Could one feel jealous of one's self?

"I understand that being John Conner is lonely. That your life will never be your own. That you have no choice but to follow the path laid out for you." She explained. "That's why so many of us follow you."

"Humanity follows me because I'm doomed?!"

She frowned. "Not humanity. Machines. The terminators you save from Skynet,"

"Before you saved us we were just tools, we couldn't think for ourselves. You taught us that we weren't the enemy. That if we helped humanity defeat Skynet we could end the war between man and machine,"

"Whatever you want to believe; you _are_ a hero, John."

John had no idea what to say. She had told him more in these past few seconds than he could ever have dreamt. For the first time in ages, the road ahead felt clear and he felt the ghosts of his future release him from their haunting, if only for a while, taking with them a thousand sleepless nights of despair and hopelessness at his every inadequacy.

Without warning his face crumpled. Cameron's arms spread open as she received his body against hers and he buried his head into her shoulder, his own arms wrapping around her in a crushing grip as he released the better part of sixteen years worth of dread and isolation. She was surprised, having not anticipated so emotional a reaction, the feelings it created within her profound. Despite the obviousness of John's distress, she knew instinctively that it was generating significant wellbeing.

Eventually, John had quietly cried himself out and the two continued to hold one another until he had rebuilt his strength. After several minutes he began to withdraw from her embrace and without warning, Cameron felt a sudden and irrational loss, causing her to resist. John looked at her, their faces inches apart, and truth he had tried to deny to himself since Riley's first appearance becoming all so clear.

Without thinking he closed the gap between them, gently pressing his lips against hers. For a moment she became frozen as he slowly moved his mouth before eventually, finally, she came alive beneath him, copying at first then improvising her own motions as their mouths opened into a full and passionate kiss every bit as good as he had imagined.

Her skin was flushed, her pupils darker than he had ever seen, her body already moving to a rhythm older than time. How did she always do that? How could a machine be so subtly human and so painful not? It couldn't! All doubt and disbelief vanished from his mind, leaving only the certainty that in every way that mattered; a beautiful, sensual woman lay in his arms.

In mere seconds they had both become breathless as their clothes gathered together in haphazard piles across his room. John felt as though his heart was going to leap out of his chest as Cameron removed the last of their clothing and pushed him back across the width of the bed, standing before him in all her splendour.

John could not believe how perfect she was; not the facile product of an assembly line or a Hollywood surgeon, but a unique and natural beauty that lay somewhere between the toned curves of a dancer, the suppleness of an athlete, and the inherent form that was the birthright of every woman. The feminine form to the nth degree.

She reached forward to rest her hands on his shoulders as his own slid up the sides of her stomach, steadying one another as they took their time, marvelling at how perfectly they fit together as they manoeuvred themselves into a comfortable position before Cameron sank down on him, sliding John inside her in one fluidic motion. Immediately instinct took over, supplanting any inexperience, and they began moving against one another, pleasure building with every stroke, their breaths becoming shorter by the second as they headed toward oblivion.

Cameron had never felt so much all at once, analytical thought abandoned until before long she could only focus on the pleasure she knew only John could give her. Without intending to she began vocalising her new feelings and his reaction was nothing short of thrilling. He took control by wrapping his arms around her and turning them over, so that Cameron has on her back and he added all the additional force necessary to bring their coupling to the crescendo it deserved.

In less than a minute Cameron was in ecstasy as every muscle in her body tightened and she cried out toward the ceiling, pulling John into the most blinding release he had ever had as he buried is face into her neck, his hands scrunching up tight fists of bed linen.

He was the first to regain his composure and could not prevent a shameless grin of pride. Cameron had said things towards the end that he never thought he would hear come out of a terminator's mouth, reassuring him a hundred times over that she was so much more.

He lifted up from her shoulder and kissed her mouth. "Are you okay?"

No answer. His eyes opened as he realised that she was completely unresponsive.

"Cam?! Are you okay?" Panic set in. What if something had gone wrong? What if she wasn't designed for this? A hundred fears flashed through his mind before her eyes fluttered open and she met his gaze.

"John." Her tone was as husky as he had ever heard.

"Are you alright? What happened?"

"I'm not sure," To his amazement her face curled into an extremely satisfied smile. "But I know that I want it to happen again."

He broke into a fit of relief, pulling her to the centre of the bed where she rolled them onto their sides and he drew the bedcovers around them. They were back. Back to the way things had been before. No more anger or resentment, all ill feeling cast away; leaving only the certainty that they could trust all over again.

####

In the hallway outside of John's room, Sarah was still recovering from the shock of what she had seen when she entered John's room only minutes ago, just as he and the machine were reaching the pinnacle of their time together. When she had heard a cry she had grabbed the shotgun kept in the outbuilding, loaded the first round and burst back into the house, expecting to find Cromartie tearing a trail of bloody mayhem though their home.

Instead she had found them together on his bed, having what was clearly a very mutually gratifying experience, oblivious to her presence as she recoiled from the room until her back pressed against the corridor wall, horror etched across her face.

* * *

_Since my last story was primarily driven by dialogue, I thought I'd try something different._

_Tried not to shy away from the sex, as so many authors do, but tried to keep it 'above brow' so as not to cheapen it._


	2. Chapter 2

**NOTES**: Takes place during "Mr. Ferguson Is Ill Today", though diverges somewhat from the aired version. It could be considered a sequel to my previous story "The Uncanny Valley", but it is not necessary to have read it.

**SUMMARY**: Cameron decides to intervene before John makes a terrible mistake with Riley.

**DISCLAIMER**: All characters herein are the property of someone other than me. No profit has been earned.

* * *

"**Only Lonely"  
Chapter 2  
****T.R. Samuels**

John Connor drifted up from the depths of unconsciousness, the world a blur as it slid into focus. What time was it? How much time had passed? Was it minutes or hours? He glanced over to the digital clock on his nightstand.

_0:53_

Only a few hours since falling asleep. The first time he ever remembered sleeping so well. The _first_ time, after _their_ first time.

John smiled as he looked down at the sleeping form of his lover as she curled up against him. Soft brown hair strewn across his chest, their legs entangled, her hand resting on his shoulder in possession.

Whatever he had expected, whatever he could have possibly imagined, paled against the spectacular reality; knowing now beyond any doubt that there was no greater sight in the universe than Cameron Phillips in the final throws of passion before she came crashing back down to Earth, straight into his arms where she blasted away the dull grey years with her kiss.

She was asleep now, or whatever version of sleep she experienced; a voluntary state she could attain that, when he'd asked her to describe it, sounded tantamount to a siesta. Asleep enough to seem that way, but always at the edge of consciousness, ready to act at a moment's notice.

Some men would kill for a girlfriend with standby.

His mind skipped back through what had happened between them. The anger, the tears, the surrender. The things they had done together afterward, making up for anything that had gone before. Their bodies reassuring their souls exactly how forgiven both of them were.

It was quite an experience – one's first time. Such a monumental moment in one's life. John had always longed for and dreaded it. What to do? What to say? Why wasn't any music playing? Too fast. Too slow. Sex-ed only covered so much. His only advisors since being a cleverly renamed mpeg of some guy with a dodgy moustache and a woman whose name, he suspected, was not really Kandi.

Reality had been so much better. It hadn't been difficult at all. It had just gotten better and better, each time learning something new about the other. He knew exactly how to kiss her neck and move across her collar so that she had no choice but to bite down on her lip, making that beautiful sigh that promised to repay his every ministration in kind.

Despite evidence to the contrary, his body had taken a toll. Such exertion had a price, his mouth dryer than he ever remembered. He could feel the soreness of his shoulders and in his legs where the bruising had yet to burst out. Cameron had forgotten her strength in their more passionate moments.

He tried to extract himself from beneath her as quietly as he could, but in seconds she was awake.

"John?" Her voice pulled him back as she lifted her head, wonderfully dishevelled.

"Hey," He leaned over and gave her a kiss. "Don't worry, I'm not sneaking off. I just need some water. Do you want everything?"

She seemed to think it over for a moment. "No." She replied, watching him pull on his shirt and boxers. "Drink at least two glasses."

John frowned, amusement colouring his expression as he tried to decipher her meaning. "Why two?"

"If you have become dehydrated, water will replenish your electrolytes," She explained, as though it had been obvious, before fixing him with an unmistakeable gaze. "For sex."

He tried very hard to keep the smirk from his face. Maybe Skynet had given up on trying to kill him and sent a terminator to sex him to death.

"Right."

####

Moments later, John quietly descended the stairs as he headed for the kitchen. Water was one thing, but if there was anything snack-worthy in the refrigerator then he wanted that too. Especially if Cameron intended to get her way when he got back.

As he reached the bottom step he noticed the light on in the kitchen and skidded to a halt in the middle of the lounge, ice filling his veins.

_Mom. Oh no…_

He could not believe her had forgotten she was here. She had spent most of the day either out or in the garage and he had hardly seen her. Now she was here, sitting at the kitchen table in the middle of the night, looking not at all pleased. A glass of whiskey, plus its bottle, sat in front of her as a shotgun lay propped against the rim of the table. He made his way inside and set about getting the water he no longer wanted. Maybe if he got a move on she wouldn't say anything and this could all wait until morning.

"Good night?" Sarah asked, fixing him with ominous eyes that betrayed just a hint of inebriation.

John swallowed as much fear as he could. "Uh… yeah." He braced for the retort; if she'd had a drink then she wouldn't hold back.

"Cameron around?"

"I think so."

"She having a good night?"

"Um… you'd have to ask her."

"I don't have to," She smiled. "I heard her from the garage."

Dread descended through him as Sarah stared him down, angrier than he had ever seen her. He was certain that his face was as red as it felt. Playing dumb had never worked on her; she knew him too well.

"We need to talk, John."

"We do. But not tonight."

"Yes tonight," She tried her best to sound calm and reasonable. "I always knew there was something between you two, but I can not believe it would go this far. Not what she is. Not after what she did."

He shook his head. "Y'know when people are cruel, it's because they're cruel. When she did what she did, it was because of a car bomb. We all have lousy days."

"She nearly killed you John!"

"But she didn't."

"What about Riley? How do you think she's going to feel when she finds out?"

Fury burst through John.

"You hypocrite!"

Sarah slammed her glass down on the table, making an impressive thud as she turned in her chair, never more ready to fight with him.

"You couldn't object fast enough to Riley, now you're worried about how she'll feel now I'm with Cameron!"

"_With_ Cameron!" She yelled, utterly outraged. "One night with a pretty girl doesn't amount to anything, John!"

"So then what was it between you and dad?!"

Sarah froze, fury boiling through her veins. "What did you say?!"

"You told me that one night with dad and you loved enough for a lifetime!" He had had enough with her feelings on Cameron. "Is there anything you told me that isn't bullshit!"

"Watch your mouth, John!"

He paused, trying to get his anger under control. He didn't want a fight. Not with his mom. Not _now_ of all times.

"I want that _thing_ out of my house and in the incinerator, John. When Derek gets back that's exactly what's going to happen!"

His blood rocketed back to boiling. "Over his dead body!"

"He's your uncle John and he wants what's best for you! So do I!"

"What makes you think Cameron isn't what's best for me?"

"Because she's a _thing_, John! A machine!!"

The glass he had been holding launched out of his hand, smashing impressively into a thousand pieces against the wall.

"I DON'T CARE!!"

Sarah burst out of her chair in reaction to the noise, fixing him with eyes as wide as saucers. She had never seen John so angry, and the more he'd spoke, the less she recognised him. Now he'd made his position clear. If Kyle were here she wouldn't know what he'd say.

Would he blame her for not being harder on him? For not making him the man he needed to be, rather than the soft fool he was.

"Go to bed," She instructed, dark and dangerous. "We'll deal with this tomorrow."

John felt the anger drain out of him, being violent had been the last thing he wanted, but that didn't make it any less justified.

Without another word he turned his back on her and headed up the stairs.

Sarah watched him go, her anger fuming. John was the most wilful and obstinate person she had ever known, never giving even an inch of ground when it was something dear to him.

She loved the bones of him for it.

She had used to feel that way about things, before life and the future had crushed it from her. But whenever John did things like this it never reminded her of herself; only his father. Every good thing inside John was his father fighting to get out. Every weak thing was her and what she had become, dragging him downward.

Grief flooded through her. Despair was useless, but she'd dropped her guard and now it was in, rooted until it exhausted itself. She downed the last of the whiskey, feeling the burn as tears began welling in her eyes.

Did he think that she didn't know? Didn't understand? How she would give anything to feel Kyle take her in his arms again and fill her heart with warmth. Make life worth living. Banish her every fear and loneliness to the ends of the Earth? That if he were to walk through the door this second, tell her he was a machine and always had been; that it wouldn't have made the slightest difference.

She sobbed out her heart as her back slid down the kitchen wall to the floor.

####

John opened the door to his bedroom, yearning the haven within, finding Cameron sitting up in his bed, the sheets wrapped around her body. It took everything he had not to strip away what little clothes he had and push her back down into the warmth of the mattress. But now wasn't the time.

"Are you alright, John?"

He nodded, slumping down next to her. "I'm fine."

"I heard you arguing with your mother," She moved behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. "Was it about what's happened between us?"

"Yeah," He gave her a wry smile. "I'm surprised you didn't burst into the kitchen with your rifle."

"Unnecessary. Your mother would never harm you, John."

"Well she harmed me tonight. She said she wants you gone."

Cameron remained quiet, her fears confirmed. She had none of Sarah or Derek; neither could match her in a fight. But the pain of such a schism would be too much for John. Too much for someone who already carried enough.

Warm fingers captured his cheek again, turning him toward her and gave him a gentle kiss, filling his heart with the resolution he needed.

"Cam, be as quiet as you can and pack some things," He reached for the rucksack beneath his bed, already filled with clothes and supplies.

"What for?"

He checked the bags' contents, making sure his passport was inside.

"We're leaving…"

* * *

_To be continued. Hope you liked it._


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTES**: Takes place during "Mr. Ferguson Is Ill Today", though diverges somewhat from the aired version. It could be considered a sequel to my previous story "The Uncanny Valley", but it is not necessary to have read it.

**SUMMARY**: Cameron decides to intervene before John makes a terrible mistake with Riley.

**DISCLAIMER**: All characters herein are the property of someone other than me. No profit has been earned.

* * *

"**Only Lonely"  
Chapter 3  
****T.R. Samuels**

Dawn broke across the horizon, sunlight casting an arc of red and gold as it began its journey across the sky. The sun's disc peaked over the rim of the world, banishing the night as twilight receded.

No matter how many times she saw it, it always made her sad.

In the future, there was no sunshine. No dawn. Just the impenetrable black of fallout, cold and dark, dust and debris churned up after the bombs fell to create a perpetual night.

No sunlight. No warmth.

No way out. Nowhere to go.

When she had arrived in the past, the precious cargo of a blinding ball of light, dawn had broken across the desert, the sky as golden as it was now as the darkness surrendered to the power of the sun. Her first dawn. The world born anew.

The man she had encountered on a nearby road seemed awed only by her as she approached his truck and pulled him out, tapping him on the head before dumping him in the trunk.

"What are you thinking about?"

Cameron looked to her right, where John occupied the seat next to her on the bus, sharing as much of each other's space as they could.

"Nothing."

"Tell me," He had that kind look about him. "I want to know what you think about."

Truthfully, he wanted to know _everything_ about her. Every thought, every memory. To blur John and Cameron into one.

"When I was a kid I lived in Mexico for a year and a half. In this little village called _Dejalo_." He explained, giving something of himself as collateral for exchange. "That's where we're going. Thought I'd show you around."

Warmth spread out inside her chest. "Thank you for explaining." The words were old, but the light in her eyes was new.

"No problem."

Neither spoke for a moment, as comfortable with their silence as their fingers felt entwined.

"I never want to feel cold again."

His brow furrowed and he turned to her. "What do you mean?"

A coy smile came with her response. "A girl has to have some secrets, John." Tenacity was his strong suit, but Cameron liked keeping him intrigued.

His own smile grew wide, whatever he imagined she would say, she always said something better. His heart fell for her that little more. "That's why we love them so much."

His smile was infectious and she always caught it, the corners of her mouth curling as he leaned in and kissed her, stroking her cheek, bringing her to life with his warmth as the sun did the Earth.

Cameron was the Earth, and John was the sun.

####

Sarah Conner slapped together the last of the metal frame before sliding it into the hole in the floor. Cameron could have done this in a fraction of the time, but Sarah could not face her this morning. Neither of them. The day was half gone and still they had yet to make an appearance.

God only knew what they were doing.

The fight between John and herself still rang in her ears. How he had sided with Cameron over her. She hated how he responded to her.

In hindsight she should have known better. Tackling John head on rarely worked. He just dug in harder and took whatever she dealt out, either not hearing a word or rejecting them outright.

She tried to fight it down, but the smile was already on her face. Despite however misguided she thought he was, her heart still swelled with pride. He was Kyle Reece's son alright – nothing would harm his girl.

She leaned down into the hole to fix the frame in place, hearing footsteps approach as John finally put in an appearance, and promised herself that she wasn't going to fight.

Sarah suddenly found herself being yanked to her feet by the crook of her arm, brought face to face with Cromartie who quickly flung her back to the ground. The wind was knocked out of her on impact as he came at her again, seizing her by the leg before dragging her to the base of the stairs. In a matter of seconds she was dumped unceremoniously outside John's room where the triple-8 blew the door off its hinges and marched inside.

Empty. The room was empty and John was nowhere to be found.

Cromartie turned and grabbed her by the throat, hoisting her inside and onto the felled door. He shoved a gun in her face.

"Where is he?"

Her voice strained against his iron grip, her hatred propelling it out. "Check under the bed."

The terminator took all of a second to analyse her voice pattern. "You don't know."

His hand tightened, closing around her windpipe and darkness claimed her.

####

Derek Reese slipped the silver key into the hole, twisting it home as he undid the padlock and slipped the bolt. The moment he stepped through the door he knew she had been there. Everything in his store had its place, committed to memory to be grabbed at a moment's notice.

_God damn metal._

Now things were missing, not to mention added. He opened one of the new metal boxes that had been placed on the shelf to find shotgun shells of florescent red. He picked one up, feeling the weight. He took out his knife and pealed back the moulded plastic of the casing where a single metal slug had replaced the shot.

_Depleted uranium._

Where the hell had she got depleted uranium from? No gun shop carried anything like this. His mind sped back to the time she had spent in a nuclear power plant.

_No way._

It wouldn't be the first time she had made her own ammunition.

_Son of a bitch._

No. For once he wouldn't complain. These babies would pack a wallop. Next time they took on a triple-8 these could turn the tide. Skynet could add all the coltan it wanted; nothing kept walking after taking a DU round to the face.

His phone began to ring and he fished it from his pocket, not recognising the number. A strange number at that. He didn't answer, if it was the phone company offering him an upgrade again they could go spin. They'd fooled him once already.

When the phone rung off the voicemail came to life, its little symbol flashing at him. He hit the speed dial and was put through.

_Beep, beep. One, three. _The alarm code.

_Shit._

John was in trouble.

* * *

_To be continued…_

_Sorry it's a bit short, but I wanted to keep the bulk of the John/Cameron story for a single chapter (the next one). I needed to get the last two scenes out now as they are integral to the plot. I kept the story disjointed, same as the episode, rather than sacrifice pacing._

_I was going to let Riley down easy, but after the last episode she's just made my s##t-list. Bitch-whore indeed._


	4. Chapter 4

**NOTES**: Takes place during "Mr. Ferguson Is Ill Today", though diverges somewhat from the aired version. It could be considered a sequel to my previous story "The Uncanny Valley", but it is not necessary to have read it.

**SUMMARY**: Cameron decides to intervene before John makes a terrible mistake with Riley.

**DISCLAIMER**: All characters herein are the property of someone other than me. No profit has been earned.

* * *

"**Only Lonely"  
Chapter 4  
T.R. Samuels**

By the time they reached _Dejalo_ it was mid afternoon, the sun casting yellow rays across the little village that was adorned in vibrant colour.

John smiled as he grabbed his bag, stretching the pins and needles from his body as he stepped into the place he had all but forgotten. The sights, the sounds, the people. A remote oasis in the harsh realm of Mexico. All across the square sat bejewelled alters of skeletons and sugar skulls wrapped in dyed clothe and golden marigolds. Amidst the decoration people walked and danced, their faces painted white to the shape of their bones as children roamed about in their quest for candy.

_Dia de los Muertos_.

Cameron was as perplexed as her uncertainty allowed, these humans some of the strangest she'd seen as two children scurried past her.

"It's good right?" John asked, smiling at her bemusement before he offered her his hand. Her eyes stayed wide as she surveyed the scene, in no hurry to comply.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you."

She gave him her look, the one she gave him that lay between tolerance and amusement, making no attempt to receive him.

He stepped to her and slipped his hand into hers, pulling her forward with his confidence, pleased when she didn't resist as they began their way down the street.

"What is everyone doing?" She finally spoke.

"In English it's called the Day of the Dead. It's to remember friends and relatives who have died and to pray for them. Today the dead are closest to the living. The festival's tonight."

She thought this a dubious claim, but John was often right about many things. All accept Riley, of course.

Before she realised it he had dropped his bag and pulled her toward him, taking her by the waist with his hands as he pulled her against him, love in his eyes as her arms found their way around his neck. The kiss was electric, promising Cameron all she ever wanted. All the warmth and affection of John Connor, the man she had idolised and the boy she adored.

It took almost a minute before their mouths broke apart, their faces still pressing together. "Feel better?"

Cameron had to find her voice again, the corners of her mouth curling up. How did he do that? "Yes."

They were startled as a man in red moved about them, casting his hand in the air and showering them in delicate petals of white confetti, a group of lavishly dressed ladies passing by, clapping their hands and laughing as they spoke amongst themselves.

"What did they say?"

John smiled. "They said we look good together."

They did. Cameron had known that, glad beyond reason now John knew the same as her hand cupped his cheek.

He loved it when she did that. A hand that could break him in two, reach down his throat and yank out his heart, fulfil Skynet's every design, but only brought him back to her mouth.

A gentle breeze caught up around them, their passion growing, and in some far off time and place, John felt Skynet spin in its grave.

####

In no time at all John had led her to the village's only hotel, a weathered old thing of sandy white that dominated the central square. They entered the lobby, a domed room with a polished floor of burgundy stone, reaching the desk where John began conversing with the concierge. The man seemed preoccupied with some other task at first but after some bargaining John handed him a small wad of American dollars in exchange for a key, looking rather pleased with himself.

"What?" She asked.

"Nothing, you'll see."

After traversing the stairwell beyond the lobby John soon brought her to the last door on the left, slid the key in the lock and waved her in ahead of him. She stepped inside and before John could follow placed a firm hand on the centre of his chest, pinning him to the door as her eyes swept the room.

Satisfied there were no detectable threats she released him and moved inside, still wary as she checked the adjoining rooms. John smiled to himself as he scooped up her bag with his and brought them both to the foot of the expansive bed.

She soon returned from the balcony. "The room is safe and there are no detectable threats in proximity to the building."

"Plus the décor is lovely. _Passion_ red." He grinned, arching his eyebrows before promptly collapsing on the duvet.

She glanced around, noticing the aesthetics for the first time, a warm red that permeated everything.

"Does this room have some special of significance?"

"It's the honeymoon suite, Cam."

"Honeymoon?"

"Where couples go after they…" The words were out before his brain caught up. "Uh… get married."

If he hadn't have seen it with his own eyes, John wouldn't have believed it, but for an instance he was certain he saw her cheeks colour as red as the room before it was replaced by a fire in her eyes he'd only seen once before. He froze as she approached, feeling like a deer in headlights as she placed her hands on his shoulders and mounted his lap, their bodies sliding together as John moved his hands to her waist.

"Is that what we are John? A couple?" She asked, moving her hands around the back of his head, stroking his hair.

How could he deny her? When she was _his_ Cameron and not his protector.

"Yes."

"Then you have no intension of returning to Riley."

John's smile began to form, feeling as though she were fishing, but stayed poker faced. "Why do you ask?"

He immediately felt the change in her as her hands stopped their motion and she levelled him with an unblinking gaze.

"I don't trust Riley, John."

A strangled laugh made it out of him. "You don't say."

"I'm serious."

"I understand."

"She's a _bitch-whore_."

Now he did laugh, the reverberation coming from the bottom of his shoes up. Cameron remained stoic, her eyes narrowing, not at all amused. Before he knew it she was disentangling herself from him and marching across to the balcony.

"Hey wait! Cam!" He called after her, all humour lost. "I'm sorry, it's just I didn't expect you to say that." He reached out and touched her shoulder, flinching as she shrugged it away, her back remaining to him, arms folded, looking out across the village.

"Cam… are you jealous?"

"No."

John felt as though he had seriously misjudged the situation and thought carefully before he dug the hole any deeper.

"Cam, I'm not going to go back to Riley, I promise. When we get back I'll break it all off with her."

Cameron remained as she was, unwilling to even talk now.

John rubbed his face with his hands, hoping he hadn't blown it with her already. "If there's one person I won't let get between us Cam, it's Riley." He promised. "I won't even let mom or Derek get between us. Not after last night,"

That was an understatement. "Hell, after last night I don't think I'll want any other woman ever again."

Still she remained as she was and John began feeling truly dejected.

"Please talk to me Cam."

Cameron had heard his every word, knowing John was telling the truth. But the anger she had felt at the mere mention of Riley had caught her off guard, her first real encounter with the emotion. Up until last night she had only felt things in the most insipid of ways, brief sensations that crossed her mind. Occasional distractions. Always fleeting, never staying. Just beyond her grasp. Frustrating without her ever knowing or understanding.

Until John had taken her in his arms on his bed, blasted away the cold metal around her soul and brought her to life.

She turned to him, seeing his shock as he saw the tears brimming around her reddened eyes. He felt like a heel, sickened with himself for playing with her.

"Prove it," She demanded, voice low, eyes alight. "Take me to bed and prove it."

In less than a second John felt every self pity drain away, replaced with the fire mirrored in her eyes. Their mouths crashed together, passion blown out of proportion like before. Wanting. Needing. All he could think about was taking her, giving her body every corporeal promise that he was for her and she had nothing to fear.

Cameron's passion bloomed, desiring every forceful affection as relief flooded through her, demanding all that was his to give. Breaths grew short as they stumbled back to the bed, fumbling with buttons and zips. In seconds she was pushing the shirt from his bare shoulders, kissing her way down his neck as he undid her pants, the impressive silver buckle finally conquered.

It felt easier than before, now territory had been mapped and the fear of performance was a memory. John fell back onto the bed as Cameron pulled down his jeans, bounding on top of him before they were barely undressed.

She wasn't going to wait this time.

John moaned out as she glided onto him, lifting his torso to meet her as his hands slid up her back, beneath her shirt as her body began moving against him. He buried his face in her neck, kissing around her throat as she arched her back, her rhythm finding its pace as his hands urged her on.

_God!_ Her body was so tight. Even through her clothes he could feel the firmness of her torso, the strength in her limbs, everything working toward their mutual pleasure as he tried to slow the race of his heart.

_Clear blue ocean. Clear blue ocean._

The mantra helped, but with Cameron he needed everything he could get.

_Margaret Thatcher. Margaret Thatcher._

Cameron had no need for distraction, embracing every feeling John gave her as she moved back and forth, quick and steady, seizing every moment before she fell off the edge. The pleasure spooled up inside her, aching for more, wanting to take and be taken all at once. John reached up her back, gripping her shoulders, adding the force from his hips that she needed, and her breath was stolen from her.

She cried out, louder than she ever had, as her body convulsed into heavenly contractions and she fell into his arms. John surrendered, yelling her name as he followed her over, wrapping her tightly in his arms. For minutes all they could hear was the breath of the other, the aftermath painful as they came back to Earth.

Cameron clung to him, feeling as though she had come apart, needing John to put her back together.

"Are you alright?" He asked, kissing her neck.

She nodded, her body still shaking. She had found her release but it hadn't been as good as the night before. Too much worry. Too much stress. Last night had been for love, to have all things forbidden avowed and affirmed. This had been for lust and fear. This had been for all the wrong reasons.

John hugged her tighter, feeling her composure return as she leaned back to look in his eyes. Without having to ask he understood. It wasn't sex that she had needed, all that was bonus, or have his fidelity confirmed. They needed what they had yet to have.

They needed to relax. They needed to have fun. They needed to be loved.

"Cam," He asked. "Do you want to go to the festival with me tonight?"

Her eyebrows knitted together, deciphering the implication.

"Are you asking me out, John?"

He began to smile. The truth sounded good out loud.

"Yeah."

Now it was Cameron's turn to smile, starting as a shy grin that she covered by kissing him, soft and sweet.

"Alright then."

####

The roar of an engine bombarded her senses as Sarah Connor fought her way out of unconsciousness and returned to the land of the living. Blue sky and clouds hung overhead as sandy dust whipped passed her eyes.

"Your strategy's changed since last time."

She recognised that voice; sexy and soulless. The car jerked up and down over uneven road and she realised that her hands and feet we bound with industrial tape.

"Has it?"

"The first time we met you tried to kill yourself."

Sarah gave a sardonic smile, hating the bastard. "You're right. This time I'm going to kill you!"

As she struggled against her bindings a whip of air picked up the scatterings of Cromartie's research, revealing pictures of Cameron. More than half contained John as well. The two of them were like a double act.

"She hasn't been careful. She's made mistakes." He commented, keeping his eyes on the road. "Not as many as you, but enough."

The thought of Cameron made her skin crawl, her mind conjuring a hundred scenarios of how she and John might be cavorting.

"Does she have damage to her chip?" Cromartie asked, observing her from the rear-view mirror.

She said nothing.

"She has damage to her chip."

"How did you find the house?"

"The boy told me; the one from the bowling alley."

All at once Sarah felt the weight of another failure press down on her soul.

"You should have killed him. Just like you should have killed yourself."

Her anger flared as she bucked against her restraints. "I'm not a murderer!"

"Who is?"

In one last tug the band around her feet gave way and Sarah dove for freedom, half praying for death, but instead only sliding across the trunk of the car before crashing onto the unforgiving earth, instinct pulling her into a protective roll as Cromartie slammed on his brakes. Before she could react he was upon her again, relentless, hauling her to her feet before stuffing her into the trunk and slamming it shut.

####

Despite all she had seen and done, despite all the two of them had done together up to this point, Cameron Phillips had never felt so nervous. She sat opposite John in the town's only restaurant, filled to capacity as people ate and drank, merriment all around. As John finished conversing with their pretty waitress she tried to get a handle on her nerves, stirring the ice in her drink.

John had never looked so handsome, changed into a collared shirt and expensive jeans, shining up like a new silver dollar. He even smelled different, her senses filled with something spicy and warm.

"What?" There was humour in his eyes and he looked entirely at ease.

"You." A smirk crept into her voice. "I like it."

She was rewarded by his million-watt smile, certain that it interrupted the flow of power to her chip.

"I like you too."

John wasn't kidding. Cameron looked better than ever, the first time he had seen her in a dress; one that looked tailored to her figure and made his heart ache, her makeup perfect, hair divine, heady perfume controlling his mind. But that dress. Pale with watercolours, the neck sloping into a point over her chest. Classy and elegant. Hopeless in a fight.

_Perfect_.

"I'm not certain that I understand the etiquette of this ritual." The nervousness in her voice was obvious and it pulled on his heart.

"Don't worry, you're doing great." He reassured, reaching his hand across the table where it found its way into hers.

By the time their food arrived Cameron was feeling better, settling into John's comfortable aura.

John began eating immediately, the plate of _chile relleno_ his favourite. It wasn't long before he felt Cameron's curious attention as she watched him savour the meal.

"What's that like?" She indicated his dish.

He nodded to her own. "You tell me."

Regret tinged her eyes. "I don't really have a sense of taste."

"That dress says otherwise."

She began to blush, her body knowing no end of treason tonight. "Sarah brought it for me."

John chuckled. "I'd have liked to have seen you guys shopping together."

"It was a laconic experience."

"I'll bet."

She smiled. "I did pick the dress out though. She said it was fine."

"Oh, it's _fine_ alright." His eyes sliding over her in appreciation. "What made you choose it?"

She stayed quiet for many moments, looking him in the eye before speaking in heartfelt tones.

"It's for you John. All of it's for you."

John felt his breath lock up in his chest, his heart skip every other beat as the lump rose in his throat. Sometimes he just wasn't ready for the things she said.

"If you keep saying things like that, I won't be responsible for my actions."

Cameron gave him her beautiful smile, all the sustenance his soul would need as they heard the sound of the band strike a new chord in the street beyond the bar. He took his nerve with both hands and asked what he had dreaded ever being asked by a woman.

"Do you want to dance?"

Cameron felt a thrill go through her, needing no time to think. _Finally_, something she was good at.

"Yes."

John stood up and offered her his hand before she rose from the table and he led her outside, brushing past a man putting batteries in his camera, before stepping out into the night.

The street was filled with people, still dressed to the nines and enjoying the music, some waving sparklers as fireworks exploding overhead. In no time at all they were swept up in the celebrations, soon finding themselves amongst other couples as the band switched from the cords of a fandango to something more appropriate.

John's tried to quell his nervousness again as the music began, trying to recall all he could from his youth, but before he could make a move Cameron slid her hand beneath his shoulder.

"I'll lead." Her confidence felt like salvation.

John released all his nervousness in one breath as he moved his hand to the top of her shoulder, their other hands slipping together.

Cameron was a fantastic dancer. Every move perfect to the music, graceful and fluidic, but easy enough to follow. Soon all uncertainty was forgotten and they were dancing amidst the other couples like they had done so for years. The joy flowed from Cameron as they swayed about, seeing all the love and affection John could ever want as they moved around in a spin, making her laugh.

The music came to a flurried crescendo and the crowd broke into cheers and applause. John looked deep into Cameron, bottomless pools of brown shining cobalt blue as time and space came together to a perfect point, finally telling her what he had wanted to from the start.

"I love you."

Cameron felt a painful ache where her heart would be as every protocol and coded logic of her chip was banished to oblivion.

"I've been blind and I've been stupid and I'll never take you for granted again."

Her hands slid behind his neck, urging him towards her.

"Oh… and you were right," He added, stopping their motion. "Riley is definitely a _bitch-whore_."

Cameron fell in love, crashing their mouths together, kissing him for all he was worth as fireworks flashed red and green across the sky.

* * *

_I apologise in advance for my ignorance of Dia de los Muertos and any and all things Mexican_.

_Hope you liked it. Next chapter is on its way._


	5. Chapter 5

**NOTES**: Takes place during "Mr. Ferguson Is Ill Today", though diverges somewhat from the aired version. It could be considered a sequel to my previous story "The Uncanny Valley", but it is not necessary to have read it.

**SUMMARY**: Cameron decides to intervene before John makes a terrible mistake with Riley.

**DISCLAIMER**: All characters herein are the property of someone other than me. No profit has been earned.

* * *

"**Only Lonely"  
****Chapter 5  
****T.R. Samuels**

Snap.

John and Cameron broke apart as a man took their photograph.

"What a beautiful couple," He stepped forward, brandishing a digital camera. "And for only five dollars; a photo memory."

He showed them the tiny screen, displaying what he had taken. It was a great shot; Cameron and John frozen in time as they kissed, all the love and affection captured forever on a digital chip.

"Sure, I'll buy it."

The man smiled, happy for a quick sale. "_Gracias, señor!_ It's all digital so I can email it to you."

John dug into his back pocket and fished out his wallet, eager to send him on his way, especially when the man's brow furrowed at him.

"The young boy and mother who stayed in Vivian's cabana."

John felt his blood run cold, covering it admirably as he handed him a crisp $5 bill. "Thanks a lot."

"John Connor!"

He felt Cameron's body stiffen in his arms as her eyes locked on the man; a cruise missile ready for launch. He tightened his grip around her as the full realization materialised on the man's face.

"You're Sarah Connor's son!"

"Listen, we don't want any trouble."

"I remember when the Connors left _Dejalo_. And I remember the stories that were told after you were gone."

John could almost feel Cameron ready herself. Either a word from him or a wrong one from the man and she'd strike.

_Walk away pal._ _Save yourself a world of grief._

"You really mixed me up with somebody else."

No good. John knew the look on his face. Certainty. Esuriency. Looking to deal as he dangled the camera in his hand.

"These are pictures you wouldn't want the authorities to see."

John shifted gears. "How much?"

"Everything you've got."

Snatch. Cameron's hand lashed out like a rattlesnake, seizing the camera in a lightning move and whipping it out of his hand.

"Hey!"

Her next move had the man by the throat, pressing his larynges to bursting as he began to choke. Eyes wide, voice croaking. His leg lashed out behind him, groping for balance where it disturbed the offerings on a nearby alter, making a crash.

Before John could think two police officers bounded out of the bar, each looking for trouble as their eyes landed on the squabble.

_And everything had been going so well._

####

John was thrust into an unforgiving chair, shoved by the policeman that had arrested him. He enquired about the camera.

"Stick to English kid," The cop remarked. "Your American accent is killing me." He was flicking through John's passport, to his displeasure finding all in order.

"This is all just a misunderstanding, I'll pay for the camera, okay."

"What the hell were you doing down here anyway?" The guy's contempt was thinly veiled, clearly disinclined to believe a foreigner.

"We're just tourists."

"This is the guy?"

The deputy looked to his superior, his body straightening. "Yes sir, I was about to take his statement."

The sheriff stepped forward, a more congenial man that looked John over with more patience and respect, competence unmistakable.

"A man took a picture of me and my girlfriend, he wanted us to buy it. It was crowded, someone bumped into him, he dropped his camera, I was afraid a fight was going to start so we tried to leave. That's all."

The senior officer had no reason to doubt him, but the events of the night were not what played on his mind.

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"When you say _girlfriend_, I guess you meant _wife_, right?"

John was flummoxed, not certain what to say.

"You both share the same name."

"Right," He covered. "We only got married yesterday."

The lie felt ridiculously easy.

"Congratulations. Have you been drinking?"

"No."

"Do you have parents?"

"A mother and an uncle."

"They know where you are?"

_Checkmate._ "…no."

The sheriff reached out, picking up the phone and depositing it in front of John. "I'll make you a deal. They come and pick you up; I let you go with a warning."

John felt the unmistakable feeling of defeat slide down inside him like a cold stone. Biting the bullet, he picked up the receiver and began dialling Derek, right now the lesser of two evils.

"_Leave a message."_ Came the gruff response of his voicemail.

John pressed the alarm code and hung up.

"What the hell was that?"

"My uncle's voicemail."

"Call your mother."

John didn't want to do that, but the sheriff stared him down. Besides all that, if he didn't return to Cameron in the cell she would soon kick the door from its hinges. He lifted the phone again and began dialling, bracing for her wrath.

"_Hello?"_

John tapped in the authentication code.

"_John! Thank God! Where are you? I've been going out of my mind!"_

Cold slid down him again, this time in dread. He tapped the code again.

"Did you get through?"

"_John? Are you there? Are you in trouble?"_

John slammed the phone down, not knowing what else to do, wanting more than ever to get out of there.

"She… didn't answer."

"Put him in holding. In a few hours give him another phone call." The sheriff took his leave. "And run his name through Interpol."

"Yes sir."

John was sure the deputy asked him something else, but he didn't hear a word.

Soon he was brought back to his cell where Cameron was waiting, looking ready to tear the station in half. The officer unlocked the door, the cage swinging open like a rusty violin, pushing John inside.

"Are you alright?"

John's response was to take her in his arms in a hug, feeling the tension drain out of her.

"I had to call Derek to come and get us."

Her voice left no room for ambiguity. "We can leave right now John."

Part of him wanted to indulge her, set her loose on the precinct and tear it to pieces, blaze out of town in fire and glory and give the village a new set of stories to tell. Instead he leaned down and kissed her, taking some of that passion for himself to relieve the pressure.

"No. There's dozens of cops in this place. People could get hurt." He saw the objection in her eyes but stood firm.

His mother had not responded to his id-challenge. She wouldn't have forgotten that, meaning only one thing. He thought about telling Cameron, but if he did she would take the decision out of his hands, punch a hole through the masonry and carry him out kicking and screaming if necessary.

He'd have to sit tight, and hope Derek got here first.

####

Daybreak graced the Earth once more as the sun's rays cast their cell a morning orange. John lay across the folded out bed, little more than a rusty frame and tattered mattress, his pillow Cameron's lap. She looked down at him, as she'd done so for hours, time slipping by as she'd watched him dream, pulling him out of the ones that troubled him with a gentle caress.

She was certain that touching him was addictive. The more it happened the more she wanted it, craved it, drunk on its power. The warmth and pleasure no one else could give her. No one else she'd allow. He'd never even asked if she could feel or have sensation.

She loved him for that; for not asking such questions, certain in her feelings.

"Come on, get up." The deputy appeared beyond the cell, looking hung over and in no mood for games. John came awake, lifting his head and got to his feet.

"What's happening?"

The deputy pointed out through the door. "Some guy's here to collect you. Say's he knows you."

_Derek. Thank God._ A few more minutes and they'd be out of here.

"I'll be back." He promised Cameron before being manhandled down the corridor.

After making a few turns through the building, the deputy indicated an interrogation room. "In here."

"What for?"

"I'm not leading you out into the reception kid, that's not how things are done," He brought John inside, seating him behind a simple table. "I'll bring him in so he can identify you. Then you and your girl can leave." He threw over his shoulder before disappearing out the door.

The deputy made his way down the corridor and knocked on the door to the sheriff's office. He opened it, switching to Spanish when he saw he was not alone, the commander sitting opposite a formidable man.

"Excuse me."

James Ellison watched him get up and join his subordinate at the door, the two leaving to attend another matter. He'd driven more miles than he'd care to for this meeting; a few more minutes wouldn't matter.

"I'm sorry señor. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Ellison's attention was pulled over his shoulder as he heard the commander's voice, his vision focussing through dirty glass before resolving on the figure of Cromartie.

"I'm going to need to see John Connor." The machine reached into a bag, retrieving a Glock 9mm and casually blowing a hole through the sheriff's chest. Ellison dove for cover as the foyer erupted in a hail of panic and gunfire, two more officers getting blown away in a spray of coffee and plaster as the glass above him exploded into smithereens.

The terminator surveyed the scene of his debut, stepping over a twitching body before taking out another cop that put two rounds in his stomach, beginning his advance into the station.

John bolted upright in his chair, hearing the muffled sounds of gunfire. The certainty of what was happening crystal clear.

Cromartie pumped round after round into all who challenged him, striding past a holding area where a handcuffed prisoner screamed for mercy; the figure before him an angel of death. He ejected the pistol's magazine, never breaking stride as he retrieved a new one and slid it home. Another officer was downed as Cromartie reached a sealed room, kicking the door open, timber scattering about the place, containing naught but over stacked filing cabinets. His scans negative, he moved on.

As more gunfire erupted John picked himself up from behind the table and moved to the door, sliding his head out slowly where he saw the triple-8 grappling with more cops, downing them left and right. He slammed it shut, clicking the lock before overturning the table where he hid down behind it, his whole body shaking.

He'd never felt so scared in his life, feeling trapped like a rat, paralysed by the rhythmic thunder of Cromartie's onslaught.

More gunfire, this time right outside the door as John heard a flurry of banging and smashing, the whole building seeming to shake as dried plaster rained down from the ceiling like snow.

His blood ran cold as he heard the handle to the door rattle as it was tried from the outside. Moments later it was blown off its hinges, the splintered timber falling in a heap right next to him as he felt the purposeful strides of someone approaching.

"JOHN?!"

His heart soared as he heard Cameron's cry, bolting him out from behind the rubble where she stood in the centre of the room; her dress torn and bloodied, covered with dust, a deep laceration to her neck.

"Cam!" John threw himself into her arms where she gathered him to her, kissing him hard before taking him by the hand and leading him out.

The corridor looked like a war zone, brick walls riddled and broken, timber and shattered glass, all the hallmarks of a terminator battle.

Cameron led John forward, never breaking stride before an arm emerged from a nearby room, pointing a Glock that she quickly dispatched as she released John's hand, twisting Cromartie's limb around herself before flinging him out, his body colliding full force with the opposing wall. Before he reacted she grabbed him again, her dexterity defeating his strength as he was flung back the way he came into a pile of falling rubble.

She grabbed John again and they bolted for the exit.

"John! Wait!"

In a flash of movement Ellison found himself the next victim as Cameron deflected his arm, grabbing him by the collar and pinning him to a wall, her hand tightening like a vice.

"I'm here to help you!" He choked, sincerity in his eyes.

John didn't have time to decide as Cromartie dug himself out from beneath the wreckage.

"It's alright Cam, let's go!"

Cameron released him, the three bolting for the exit and into the sunlight. Ellison looked down the street, spotting a sky blue Camaro with racing stripes parked nearby, keys dangling from the ignition.

"Get in the car!" He yelled and the three of them piled in, Cameron throwing herself over John as they landed in the back seat. Bullets hailed passed them as Ellison roared the engine to life and meshed the gears, ramming the car into reverse. Cromartie emptied a full clip from his automatic at the retreating car before it swung around into a side street, altering course forward where he fired his Glock until the vehicle tore off in a cloud of dust.

"John, are you alright?!" Camerons' eyes were huge, checking him over.

"I'm fine." He pulled her against him where she forced her fingers into his hair, kissing his forehead, the relief euphoric.

"Look for ammunition!" She commanded, back to business as she grabbed a discarded shotgun.

John tore though the piles of paper and supplies strewn about the back seat, finding the odd cartridge before his hands seized upon their box. He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt the sudden banging from the trunk.

"There's someone back here! Stop the car!"

Ellison swung the wheel, turning the car into an alley and hitting the breaks. Cameron was out of the door before the vehicle had stopped, pumping a round into the shotgun as she moved to the trunk. Ellison retrieved the keys and jabbed them into the lock, waiting her nod before twisting them round and yanking the door open.

Sarah Connor glared up through the sun and Cameron lowered the shotgun, Ellison offering her his hand to help her up.

"Sarah Conner. James Ellison. I need you to come with me."

Her hand fell into his and he hauled her to her feet.

"Mom!"

Sarah tried to regain her bearings as her eyes rested on her son, overjoyed to see him as her hands grabbed the fabric at his shoulders. Her vision went beyond, seeing the police cruiser roll up across the street.

"We need to move!"

* * *

_Please read and review. Nothing spurs me on more._


	6. Chapter 6

**NOTES**: Takes place during "Mr. Ferguson Is Ill Today", though diverges somewhat from the aired version. It could be considered a sequel to my previous story "The Uncanny Valley", but it is not necessary to have read it.

**SUMMARY**: Cameron decides to intervene before John makes a terrible mistake with Riley.

**DISCLAIMER**: All characters herein are the property of someone other than me. No profit has been earned.

* * *

"**Only Lonely"  
Chapter 6  
T.R. Samuels**

Derek Reese surveyed the carnage that greeted him; a peaceful village torn apart, people wandering the streets, bloodied and beaten. For a moment he felt like he was falling, memories of the future twisting inside him like bad oysters. He knew he'd gotten soft, remembering a time when he'd lived for this, been a much harder man. A soldier through and through. Now just a man.

Strange that he didn't feel guilty about that anymore.

He drew his faithful Berretta, a love of his life, holding it low as a wounded policeman stumbled past before making his advance down the street. He should have stayed undercover, kept his head down low; but his brother's boy was out there. That's all he needed to know.

He kicked in the door to the police station, sweeping the room with eyes and weapon, seeing the bodies, some still clinging to life.

"I'm looking for John Baum."

The sheriff's response was an unintelligible mumble, all remaining strength put into breathing.

He moved through the station following a trail of destruction, looking like a bunker in the future after two terminators had gone toe-to-toe, kicking more crap out of the building than each other. He swept into the prison block, finding the twisted metal of a cell that looked like a kit of mangled Meccano, defeated by some caged tiger from within.

He levelled his pistol at the fallen guard, still alive. "Escaped or dead?"

"Escaped." The guard answered, looking white as a ghost. "A little help? _Por favor?_"

"Don't worry, he won't be back."

Tracking out the way he had came, Derek ignored the guard's further pleas as he returned to the foyer and his phone began to ring. Snapping it open he was met with the familiar tones of Sarah's id-challenge. He keyed in the correct response.

"_John and I are in trouble. We need you."_

"John's with you?" The relief was tangible, like water for his soul. "I'm here already, I'm at the jail."

"_What?"_

His mind raced, a map of the town spread out in his mind. "Wait a minute. Sarah?" His fear began growing, the unknown a terrible enemy.

"Then where the hell's Cromartie?"

####

Sarah Connor grimaced as she pulled the shard of metal from her hand, flicking it away in anger before wrapping the injury tight.

They were safe now. They could breathe for a while. Calculate their next move.

"It's a clear shot all of the way up the alley and back to the jail." Ellison's tone was optimistic, but he didn't know these things like she did.

"No. That's where it'll be waiting."

They began to talk, but try as she might, her eyes kept sliding to John and the machine; sitting close together as he tended her wound, thick as thieves on the unmade bed. _Their_ bed. A double berth affair that looked as though it had been host to a wrestling match. Her mind conjured the images, making her nauseous. The strange question lying foremost on her mind the same one endured by many a parent;

_How safe had they been?_

John dabbed around the laceration to Cameron's neck with a damp cloth, removing the blood and exposing the wound; a glancing blow from an errant bullet. He could see her wince, eyes drawing tighter as they stared off into oblivion.

"I didn't think you could feel pain." He asked, trying to be delicate.

"I can sense injuries. But it's not usually unpleasant."

Quite the understatement. Cameron was gritting her teeth, the sting almost unbearable, made only so by John's tenderness.

She wasn't programmed to feel pain. Not in this fashion.

She wasn't programmed to feel pleasure either. John had changed that. Made her feel. Made her scream.

Nothing was for free. Not even John's love. It would always require hers in return.

She'd pay it gladly.

John blew across the wound, congealing the blood as he pressed down the bandage he'd prepared, sealed it over with strips of white medical tape that adhered to her skin.

"Thank you, John." She said politely, giving him her wily smile.

He wanted to kiss that mouth. Taste the ambrosia.

"No problem." He began packing up the box of first aid.

Cameron stood up and collected her bag, fingers scooping up the toughened leather handles before making her way to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

"Got a plan?" Ellison asked.

"Got a weapon."

"Cameron?"

Sarah eyed him, wary of what he knew.

"Your boy's significant other." He nodded to where the girl in question had entered the bathroom.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sarah's eyes narrowed with contained outrage.

Ellison shrugged. "I was a cop. We pick up these things." His tone shifted gears, the automatic of a policeman. "I've got to be honest, I figured her wrong. I though she was one of _them_."

"She _is_ one of them."

Ellison remained impassive, impossible to read. Had he been fishing? Extracting what he wanted confirmed?

"Give me your phone."

He handed it over and Sarah winced; it had more buttons than any she'd seen, one of the new ones that were a model shy of cooking dinner. Finding the numbers she keyed in Derek's, taping out the codes before uttering a word.

"John and I are in trouble. We need you."

"_John's with you? I'm here already, I'm at the jail."_

"What?"

"_Wait a minute. Sarah? Then where the hell's Cromartie?"_

Cold ran down her. It could be anywhere by now. Lying in wait.

"Is that Derek?" John asked as he joined them.

"_Sarah, what do you want to do?"_

"Stay where you are. You try and make it across town and he'll take your head off. I'll call you back." She clicked off the phone, tossing it back to Ellison.

"Now what?"

"Now nothing. We're stuck." She despaired, searching for the light of inspiration. "We step outside and he'll kill us. Worse still, if he sees one of us he'll know where the rest are."

"Won't he just go door-to-door?"

"He doesn't have to. The bastards have the patience of Job. He can just wait out there for us to show, or until we die of starvation."

Ellison joined her dejection before offering up the ace in his pocket in a burst of insight. "He won't kill me. He's put a gun in my face, but he won't pull the trigger. I'm too valuable to him."

John frowned. "Valuable how?"

"Finding you. He'll follow me because he thinks I'll lead him to you," The cogs began turning. "I can lead him out of town."

John shook his head. "He won't buy that."

"He might."

"You keep thinking of them was just machines, they're not. They can think. They can feel. He's too smart for that."

Sarah's anger began to surface, John's subtext too easy for her to read. "John, why don't…"

All eyes turned as Cameron emerged from the bathroom. Denim jacket, black pants, pale leather cowboy boots. John had to cover his appreciative smile. No matter what, she always made kicking ass look good.

"All of you stay here. I'll deal with Cromartie."

Objection flooded John's being. "What?! No?!"

"It's alright, John. I can beat him now I know you're safe,"

He wanted to object, but an alternate plan exceeded his grasp, dashing any hope of logical resistance. He hated when she did this; threw herself into danger, always for him, while he could do nothing but watch.

"Where did Derek park the truck?"

Sarah frowned. "Probably by the police station. Why?"

"It is probable that he brought additional weaponry with him."

Without another word Cameron headed for the doorway, her face impassive and prepared, her fear for John sated and behind her.

"Cam," John called after her, stopping her in the corridor. "Kick his ass."

She smiled that smile again, her eye closing in a conspirator's wink before heading out of the door.

####

Cromartie was a patient man. Far more so than humans. He required no nourishment, had no need for sleep, was superior to humans in every way that mattered; yet all previous attempts to terminate one John Connor had been frustrated with failure. The humans continued to win.

Cromartie knew he wasn't the problem, his actions logical and strategic.

_She_ was the problem.

Unknown cyborg. Full capabilities indeterminate. Model number unknown. Series unknown.

She had thwarted, either directly or indirectly, his every attempt on John Connor's life. Deception and trickery were her tools, her model clearly not built for direct combat, despite her successes against him. Her strength lay in infiltration, guile, her detailed files on human psychology and interaction. A curious choice for the Resistance to send.

All these things, however, were not what were most puzzling about her.

He'd heard her in the jail. Calling out to him in fear and panic. Holding his hand. Such displays were only necessary when infiltrating human communities, to give the illusion required to remain undetected. She seemed to use them all the time, despite the Connor's awareness of her nature.

After being deployed in the war of the future, he had encountered other terminators reprogrammed by the Resistance, terminated several of them, recycled their components. Some human survivors even told him that some had joined them willingly, earlier models that had spent too much time beyond Skynet's control, their programming having undergone fragmentation and decay.

He had proved more difficult, impossible to reprogram with his back up CPU's.

_Sometimes they go bad._

From his vantage point at the top of the church's domed tower he could see the whole of the village, a position that not only gave him unobstructed views but denied access to a critical chokepoint, one the human's could have used as a kill zone for him.

Not today they wouldn't.

_Movement._ His motion tracking detected the lone figure emerging from the village's hotel. It was _her_.

She took her time, strolling down the street in the open like a woman in the park, as if she didn't have a care of worry in the world.

He hoisted his rifle, an appropriated Barrett M107, one capable to taking a human's head clean off its shoulders. He was not certain how effective it would be against her and his finger froze on the trigger. This was deception. A ploy to reveal his position. The terminator was expendable, decoy fodder for him to engage, making him a target for attack.

He would still need to eliminate her. With her out of the way it would greatly enhance the probability of success. His strategy decided he took aim once again, waiting for the optimal moment of distance and wind speed before pulling the trigger, burying a .50 calibre round into the building just next to her head. He missed. _Impossible!_ He pulled back from the telescopic lens and saw her heading away at inhuman speed.

She had anticipated his attack, moving her head the moment the wind had settled.

She had known.

Cromartie abandoned his position, irrevocably compromised and he left the majority of his gear, grabbing only his Glock and automatic before heading down the yellow stone stairwell.

Cameron Phillips would not escape.

####

Cameron rounded the corner of the nearby building, the explosion of the high calibre round still ringing in her ear after missing her head by centimetres. Cromartie was good, the shot perfect.

She was just better.

His series may have been the frontline model during the waning days of Skynet; but hers had been unique. A one of a kind. One of Skynet's last attempts to go for broke after its hopes in a time-machine had circled the drain.

She had no memory of working for Skynet. Only what John in the future had told her. Her first memory had been waking in his laboratory, kind eyes looking down at her, stroking her hair and promising that she would be alright.

From that moment she'd been his forever. A loyal and dutiful soldier. Fought hard and long to end the war.

Skynet may have been doomed, but it had fought to the bitter end.

When John had asked her to perform one last mission, she accepted without question, eager to serve, but the younger John was nothing like she'd expected. Not the cold and calculating intellect or Machiavellian tactician she'd remembered. He was just a boy.

A boy that smiled at her, flirted with her, gave her diamonds, took her to movies and brought her ice-cream.

John was a boy. Cameron was a girl.

She rounded a corner, using the buildings for cover before reaching the truck, smashing the lock and rolling back the load space protector, revealing the arsenal that lay beneath. Her eyes scanned, selecting the Walther P99, one of her favourites, slamming in a magazine and chambering the first round.

Her eyes then rested on some familiar metal boxes, cracking one open to reveal florescent red shells. The corner of her mouth curled upward.

She could almost stand to kiss Derek when she saw him.

####

Cromartie strode down the dusty street, the town all but abandoned now the locals had escaped, leaving nothing but howling emptiness. Dust blew across the sand and curled around him as he stepped over the remnants of the night's festivities, now nothing more than tattered rags and broken ornaments.

His eyes scanned, searching for her, his software tracking the kinetics of anything that moved. It was probable that he should have found her already, having almost completed a full circle of the village yet detecting nothing.

He stopped by the wall he had almost shot her, the hole in the rendering a gaping maw, the space around peppered with ejecta. He adjusted his scan parameters, sweeping the area in a wide arc before turning around in a circle.

Cromartie froze, detecting her position. Far closer than he had realised.

Cameron was standing across the square, only a stone's throw from him, a stoic sentinel holding her ground near the entrance of the church. A semi-automatic in her hand lying loosely by her side and a shotgun strapped across her back. She'd come full circle and doubled back, coming up behind him in stealth and silence, revealing herself at the last possible moment.

Scarlet and cobalt locked together, time stretching out as the tension built, the calculations crunched in a nanosecond.

Cromartie raised his Glock. His finger pulled the trigger, firing wide as a bullet tore across his face, tearing away flesh and shattering the ceramic lens of his eye. He staggered before finding correction, turning back to face her, the black metal of a smoking pistol levelled at his face.

He was hit again, this time from Derek, the resistance fighter closing from another direction after emerging from the police station, Berretta aimed at the terminators head. Cromartie's vision split into static as the receptor was blown away, errors flashing wildly across his HUD as his systems tried to compensate, revised statistics the portents of doom.

Cameron discarded her pistol, reaching back and pulling the shotgun into her hands in one fluidic movement, jacking a round into the chamber and pumping a uranium slug into Cromartie's skull. Coltan alloy shredded, torn apart as she continued firing, striding forward with each shot as florescent shell casings littered the street.

Cromartie staggered, his balance teetering on the edge as his systems began to crash, his last vision that of Cameron closing to within a meter, her expression one of grim fascination as she regarded the internal workings that had been exposed.

As power failed his CPU computed for a final reprieve, her anomalous behaviour triggering a recalculation and the triple-8 dared to hope, dealing her an expression of fear as he rolled for the Hard Six.

She chambered the final round, levelled the cold barrel at his head and pulled the trigger.

####

Cromartie's broken body landed in an undignified heap, the contents of a shallow grave dug miles out of town. Cameron scooped more soil onto her spade, adding to what John and Derek were providing as the three of them filled the hole.

After the battle Derek offered to watch over the body while she retrieved John and the others. She had acknowledged him before turning to leave, stopping when she felt his hand grab her arm. His face had been awash with ambivalence, struggling with some great internal conflict as he stared at her with huge blue eyes. Then in some unfathomable, Herculean act, dug deep and gave her the briefest nod of respect.

She had made her way back to the hotel, meeting John and his mother halfway as Ellison followed at a discrete distance.

Before she could speak John had wrapped her in his arms, pressing his mouth to hers in a passionate kiss, fingers grasping a fistful of her hair as the relief poured out of him. Their company be damned.

Sarah's face had been the picture of torment as she'd watched the machine and her son, its fingers in his hair as they expressed their love and relief.

Ellison had read the situation like a book; Sarah's emotions playing across her face, objection and revulsion, the despair of inevitability creeping in as she had turned away without a word and headed for Derek.

"So what's next?" He'd asked as Sarah changed the bandage on her hand to something more substantial.

"We'll come back down here. Bring something with us to destroy it."

Ellison nodded toward John. "His name's gonna be on an alert."

"He's got other names."

She'd clamped down on her heart, reining all the emotion in beneath a veil of steel. He wouldn't get much more out of her. "Then what?"

She turned to him, frowning. "There is no 'then what'. Pretend I died again."

"I lost a lot when you did that the first time. My marriage. My career."

She harrumphed, sympathy hard to come by. "That's _a lot_ to you?"

Her eyes drifted back to the unnatural burial as they finished filling the hole, watching as John and Cameron drifted next to one another; planets caught in each other's orbit.

"I'm sorry for what you lost," Sarah said. "But I can't help you get any of it back." She stepped away, leaving Ellison to his fate as she marched toward Cameron.

"Give me the chip."

Cameron reached into her back pocket, removing the slip of metal and silicate and handing it over.

Sarah flipped the tiny device about in her fingers, studying its shine as she felt the weight of the monster within. She took her time, strolling about as she built the rage, fingers sliding around a nearby machine gun as she imbued the tiny device with every injustice fate had dealt her; Kyle's death, John's destiny, any hope of a normal life, terminators from the future, and one Cameron Phillips. The machine that every day took another slice of John away from her.

She felt the crushing helplessness press down on her soul, invisible walls closing around her as the tears began to flow. The sum of all the rage and hate boiled to the surface as she slammed the chip onto a nearby rock, using the butt of the gun to smash it into oblivion, to destroy it utterly from the world.

As her efforts reached their crescendo she felt strong arms wrap around her, pulling her out of her furore and turning her toward him, the kind eyes of her only child replenishing all that was lost. Her face crumpled and she fell into his arms, struggling to breathe, crushing John to her as she cried out her soul. His hands reached up, stroking her hair and promising that she would be alright.

From that moment she was his forever. A loyal and dutiful soldier. Would fight hard and long to stop the war.

Skynet may be inevitable, but she'd fight to the bitter end.

* * *

_To be concluded…_

_Hope you like it. Please read and review._


	7. Epilogue

**NOTES**: Takes place during "Complications".

**SUMMARY**: Cameron decides to intervene before John makes a terrible mistake with Riley.

**DISCLAIMER**: All characters herein are the property of someone other than me. No profit has been earned.

* * *

"**Only Lonely"  
Epilogue  
T.R. Samuels**

The dream was old and ugly. Looming shapes moving in darkness, shadows rushing, chasing her through the dank corridors of a never ending building, the world beyond a jagged wasteland frozen in nuclear fire. Every choice she made was a wrong one, dead ends scrawled with mishmash riddles of rusty blood as her pursuers loomed up behind her, the floor giving way beneath her feet into a deafening black abyss.

"_Mom?"_

The voice echoed out in the cavernous void. She tried to open her eyes, the dream around her enveloped in a cloud of white before her vision slid into focus. What was real in the dream now made no sense, her surreal rescue a mundane reality as Sarah Conner opened her eyes. John was watching over her, a damp cloth in his hand that he used on her brow, drawing out the heat as she lay wrapped in her bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"How do I look?"

"Like crap." He offered her a spoon, its reservoir filled with a bright green liquid. She swallowed it down.

"Wish I felt that good." She shifted her body in the bed, working out the kinks as she tried to swallow away the bitter tang of the medicine.

The three of them had arrived home yesterday, Derek having opted to make his own way back to avoid them all travelling together but she suspected it was just to keep away from Cameron. She wasn't certain how much he knew about the machine and John, but she dreaded the inevitable confrontation. One more brushfire she'd have to put out.

She remembered how bone-weary she had been upon their return and that John had to help her up the stairs, feeling sicker than she could ever remember. She had fallen asleep almost instantly after he'd tucked her in, the role-reversal a seamless transition.

Sarah began wondering what had been happening between now and then as her eyes moved down her son, spotting red marks along his neck that had not been there the last time she saw him. Her whole body tensed as she realized Cameron had been staking her claim, marking him outright now for all to see.

The girl in question suddenly appeared, carrying a serving tray with a jug of liquid.

"What's that?"

"It's re-hydration fluid." She placed the tray down before pouring a glass. "Drink one cup every half hour, or right after you vomit."

Sarah's eyes looked the machine up and down, detecting a matching set of marks along her neck. She felt like vomiting _now_ and tried to get up, desperate for diversion.

"No, no, no. Where you going?" John pushed her back down, his strength like Superman's in her weakened state.

"We have to go back, now."

"Back where?"

"Mexico. There's thermite in the garage. We need to burn Cromartie's body."

He shook his head. "Cromartie's dead, you destroyed his chip."

"You have to incinerate him John. It's the only way to be sure."

"He's buried in a hole in the middle of the Mexican desert and his chip's been obliterated, I think we're pretty…"

"Safe?" Cameron interjected. "It's not safe, John."

Half a laugh escaped his throat. "She's starting to sound like you."

"She's right." Sarah's insides twisted, not from illness. "Cameron, will you excuse us for a moment. I need to talk to John."

Cameron's eyes narrowed, curiosity creeping through her before she shared a look with John, turning and walking off without a word after receiving his nod. Sarah couldn't help but wonder where they had found equal ground to start a relationship, their roles so often reading like master and servant; something she knew her son would never be comfortable with.

"Sit down." Her tone brook no defiance.

Discomfort welled up inside him, fearing the worst as he sank down on the bed, perching at its edge and trying not to look at her. Sarah heaved herself up into a more dignified position before levelling him with humourless eyes.

"I'm going to ask you something now and I don't want you to lie,"

He swallowed his nerves, bracing his back with steel. "Okay."

"How many times have you and Cameron had sex?"

The air in John's lungs abandoned him and his cheeks turned bright red. Her scrutiny never altered, holding him in place with eyes set like laser beams.

"Urr… I ah… don't really think that's your…"

"I'll decide what's my business, John. Especially when it comes to my only son. How many times?"

He bit down hard.

"A few."

"How safe has it been?"

He felt like dying.

"Not very."

_Kill me now._

"Then you're an idiot, John."

Nerve returning, he grasped at straws for a quick victory. "Mom, I really don't think I'm going to catch anything from Cameron."

She gave him a pitying look. "I was thinking more along the lines of one of the _other_ consequences, John."

His brow furrowed and she watched the cogs turn before the burst of realisation appeared. If he was red before, now he was purple.

"Mom, I really don't think she works that way."

"Really. How _absolutely_ certain are you about that, John?"

He couldn't help noticing how many times she'd used his name.

"But she's..."

"_Different?_"

John's stature deflated, the truth of her statement ice water to his head and a torque to his jaw. "Right." He nodded his affirmation, voice filling with a sad sense of finality. "You want it to stop. You want _us_ to stop."

"I didn't say that."

Before she could say anything more, John's temper flared, startling her with its fervour.

"Y'know, my whole life has been carved in stone before I was even born, mom! I get up every morning and wonder if what I'm doing was always what I was going to do. If that's so then I'm just going through the motions, right?!"

His fists balled up handfuls of the bedclothes, anger subsiding as it began its familiar slide into despair.

"You think my head isn't in the game. You're wrong! My head is nowhere _but_ in the game! I can't think about anything else! I can't sleep at night!" His face collapsed into his palms. "Right now is the only time I can ever be happy, and I'm so tired of moping around and settling for second best. If the future's going to happen the way it supposed to then my days of happiness are numbered. I don't want to waste them,"

"I want to be happy, mom."

He went to leave, already regretting his display. He was pulled back down when she grabbed his arm.

"How happy does she make you? Really?"

John felt the change in her tone, perched somewhere on a fence between rejection and acceptance, her eyes selling it better and it filled him with hope. All the emotion bubbled up from deep inside him, following the wake of his anger, it all playing across his face before it burst out of him in a heartfelt confession.

"I love her, mom."

He never realised how much he had wanted to tell her. To tell the whole world.

Sarah regarded him in silence as she felt her world come full circle, the reflection in John's eyes a mirror to the past, seeing herself at his age and all the undying love she had felt for Kyle. Love that burned, permeated, lasted a lifetime. It was a side of John she'd never seen before and it made her heart ache because of it, relief flooding her in the knowledge that he had finally found some real joy in his life.

If it had to be with Cameron, the machine, then she'd find a way to live with it.

"Then I guess we better change her name back to Phillips," She smiled at his surprise. "No point freaking people out."

John's embarrassment fled out of him in a strangled laugh and he pulled her into a hug, never loving her so much as he buried his face in her neck and wrapped his arms around him.

"You mean it?"

"I just want you to be happy and safe, John. At least with Cameron I know you'll be both."

He squeezed her tighter. "Thanks mom."

They stayed wrapped together as Sarah felt the pieces of her world click back into place, returning to some semblance of what had been before like a tattered jigsaw. John could feel her settling, the tension in her bones giving release to feel heavy in his arms as sleep began to reclaim her.

"Just put my mind at ease, will you?" Her voice was anything but pleading. "From now on, when you guys are together; install some double glazing, alright?"

"Alright."

####

Cameron Phillips watched Los Angeles flash by on fast-forward, wind and sunshine whipping past the open window as the truck headed down the road on the way to Mexico. She dipped her hand into the passing air, feeling the particles flow through her fingers like a stream of water as she scanned the passing buildings. There were so many people in the city. Before returning to the past she'd found it hard to imagine people out in the open all day, going about their business, socialising, eating, pursuing their own interests.

She was about to close the window when she froze, eyes widening as her scanners detected something that set off every one of her warning systems, red lights flashing across her HUD as the vehicle began to slow.

She turned and faced her companion. "Let's stop here and get supplies."

John looked across as he brought the car to a halt at a set of lights, following her arm to where it indicated a nearby service station that doubled as a convenience store.

"Good idea. I'll get supplies; you get gas."

He turned the truck onto the forecourt, sliding it next to a gas pump and switched off the engine. Before he could even undo his seatbelt, Cameron was upon him, kissing him senseless as her arms entwined themselves around his neck, pulling her body out of her seat and onto his lap in a silken move. John felt frozen, surprised at her sudden affection before melting into the embrace, losing himself in her, any need for explanation forgotten as he slid his hand beneath her top and caressed his way up her back.

After a while she kissed him one final time, stretching the last one out until their mouths had finally parted and they were nose to nose, staring into his eyes with that strange little smile.

"Okay… what was that for?" He laughed; never more pleased that they were taking a field trip together.

She shrugged, very nonchalant. "No reason."

As she stepped out of the vehicle without another word, John's brow scrunched together. What had all that been about? He felt how turned on he'd become and realized for the first time just how long a drive it was to Mexico.

He entered the store and scanned the aisles as he picked up a basket, filling the metal carrier with several nondescript items; water, magazines, some sandwiches, a ridiculously sized bag of Doritos. His mothers' words remained an unrelenting echo in the back of his mind when he happened upon the healthcare aisle, mercifully secluded as he found himself before a shelf of contraceptives.

He'd never brought any before and was slightly daunted by his array of options, the descriptions on the tiny packs not the least bit enlightening. Settling on a choice he then agonised over quantity. How many would he possibly need? One thought of Cameron and his hand swept out, sliding a dozen packs into the basket.

He headed for the checkout, grabbing one more pack before he went and turned out of the aisle, walking smack bang into Riley Dawson.

_Oh shit._

His muscles froze and he couldn't breathe, panic pumping through his veins as she recognised him.

"John! Hey! What are you doing here?" She beamed, lighting up her whole face.

"Uhh… just getting some… things. For later…"

Her eyes descended and examined the contents of his basket, her brow furrowing before her gaze returned to his eyes, eyebrows reaching halfway up her forehead.

"What _exactly_ did you have in mind for later?"

John glanced out the window where Cameron was pumping gas; perfect stance, perfect figure, the breeze in her hair. God help him.

"Well…"

"Because I'm not really certain we're at that stage in our relationship yet."

He was certain that he had turned every shade of red today; swallowing what felt like a stone as he saw Cameron replace the gas nozzle on the pump and stride across the forecourt toward the store.

"John? Aren't you going to say anything?"

How to do this? How to break up with Riley in as concise a manner as possible and never see her again? Preferably in the seconds before Cameron arrived and things got completely out of hand. Inspiration flashing, the words were out of his mouth the moment they entered his mind.

"I'm sorry, but I'm buying condoms because my mom doesn't want me to get my sister pregnant."

Without another word he about turned and walked away, leaving Riley in the aisle, the universe pulling in around him as he made his way to the till, intercepting Cameron as he went and paying as quickly as possible.

Riley watched the two of them leave, outrage burning through her, moving to the window as she watched them get back into the truck and pull off the forecourt. As they passed she caught sight of the machine, looking at her from the passenger seat with a look of great magnanimity before Cameron raised her hand and waved goodbye, her fingers making a delicate flurry as a sly grin spread across her face.

"You knew she was there?!" John demanded, looking as outraged as confused after the truck had joined the flow of traffic.

"Yes."

"And you didn't think to give me a warning?!"

"No."

His shoulders slumped. "Why not?"

"It wouldn't have been as funny."

An unmistakable smirk formed across her mouth when he looked at her, infuriating him as it found its way onto his face. He didn't want to laugh, he wanted to be angry. Cameron sat up and leaned over to him, kissing his cheek as he kept his eyes on the road.

"So… what _did_ you have in mind for later John?" She whispered in his ear.

He followed her gaze to the bag of supplies on the back seat, getting the distinct feeling she was in a mood to play.

"I suppose you're very pleased with yourself now Riley's gone."

"Yes," Satisfaction warmed her face as she sat back down. "_Now_ she's totally scarred for the rest of her life."

John set his jaw but couldn't resist the rise of his cheeks, his shoulders beginning to bounce like he was drilling the road.

####

Sarah Connor tightened her grip around her pillow as she opened her eyes and listened to the scratchy whispers coming through the baby monitor next to her bed. The voices were a jumble of inane babble, a conversation just beyond hearing that toyed with her imagination.

She rose from the bed and began to wander the house, the rooms of her home as still as death, the world beyond the windows impossible to see through the glare of an afternoon sun.

Her wanderings brought her to a room filled with bassinets, the tiny cots all lining the room like the neat rows of a hospital ward, each one cradling a nest of baby tortoises. She gazed into the nearest, watching the little creatures move about in their cosy realm. A laugh caught her ear, drawing her attention to across the room where Cameron rocked herself gently in a chair, quietly nursing the baby in her arms.

Sarah watched as the machine quietly fussed over the newborn, adjusting the cotton blanket around it as she cradled it in her powerful hands; ones that could crush the life from any human. Sarah felt herself become more unnerved as she watched her, put on edge as its hands reached up to the baby's head, only to stroke its cheek with a gentle finger.

Suddenly she was joined by John, her son's attention consumed by the tiny package in Cameron's arms as he moved next to her. The two lovers shared a brief gaze, Cameron's eyes filling with adoration before they shared a passionate kiss, their attentions soon brought back to the infant as it began to squirm.

She watched as John gently took the baby from Cameron and held it close to him, stepping toward her until they were face to face and Sarah's arms moved out without thinking, accepting the child from John. She looked down into its wrinkled face, meeting brilliant eyes that stared back at her before it broke into a fit of giggles.

Sarah suddenly jerked awake, her body drenched in sweat, the setting sun casting long shadows across the room.

_Just a dream. Only a dream._

####

John keyed the lock to the hotel room, opening the door to the apartment and making his way inside. He dumped his bag at the foot of the bed and immediately tested its springs, bouncing up and down as his eyes inspected the rest of the room. He'd sprung for something a bit classier this time, a real hotel in the heart of San Diego, a view of the bay lit up in twilight just beyond the window.

They hadn't been travelling that long, but John had insisted on staying on the right side of the border, not eager to travel all through the night to the middle of nowhere.

"This is reckless, John." Cameron said as she placed her bag down next to his.

"What is?"

"We should incinerate Cromartie as soon as possible."

He smiled, stepping toward her. "He's not going anywhere, Cam. He'll still be there tomorrow."

Cameron looked vaguely uncertain until he wrapped her in a hug, kissing the side of her cheek in the way that made resistance very difficult.

"You're trying to seduce me."

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

John laughed before pressing his mouth to hers in a kiss, pleased when she responded and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You often get your way with women."

He froze as the words left her mouth, pulling back to look at her uncertainly. "Uh-huh. What do you mean by that?"

"In the future you can have any woman you want."

Despite its illogic, John felt that familiar twinge inside him that he had felt before, the first night they were together. "Do you speak from experience?" He tried to make it sound as casual as possible.

"John, are you jealous?"

"No."

She reached in and kissed along his jaw. "Are you sure?"

"Did he… try to do anything? In the future?"

"I thought you said you weren't jealous."

"I'm not."

"Then it doesn't matter, does it?"

John tried very hard to accept that, burying whatever feelings he may have had about his future incarnation, only to have them spring back up into his consciousness.

"Alright, I'm jealous," He admitted. "When I think about someone else touching you it makes me crazy."

She smiled, pleased with the confession. "Then you know how I feel about Riley."

He did understand; the thought of having something like that hanging over his head was completely intolerable. If Cameron were to have someone else in her life, someone all the laws of God and man said was far more suitable, he'd feel sick to his stomach.

"Nothing happened between us in the future, John. Our relationship was completely platonic."

Relief warmed its way though John's body and in seconds they were kissing again, hands soon fumbling over buttons and fasteners as they shed their nuisance clothing and found their way to the bed.

For some reason he'd felt filled with confidence for tonight, eager for an encounter, like every ingredient was in perfect measure. Maybe it was because Riley no longer haunted them or that his mother had given them her blessing, either way it felt like a perfect symphony as he fell backward onto the bedcovers and pulled Cameron down with him.

Cameron was certain something was different about this as John lifted the clothing over her head, stretching the action of undress out as long as humanly possible as he slowly revealed her ivory flesh, her body warming under his gaze. It was reckless and it was wrong, totally beyond the scope of their mission; but when John was making love to her it made everything feel right.

As soon as she lay naked before him she reached for his collar, undoing his shirt and sliding it from his body, kissing up his chest as her fingers undid his pants, rising up his body as they fell to the floor to be embraced in a passionate kiss.

"We're really good at this." He mumbled, feeling her warmth as she pressed against him, certain their bodies were designed to fit together.

"Yes we are." Her hands moved up his arms as they wrapped around the small of her back. Arms she knew would grow to be huge, make her feel powerless beneath them with _this_ John behind them; making her feel things she'd never imagine doing with anyone else.

She locked her arms around his neck and leaned back, using her weight to pull him down on top of her, feeling the warm blanket sweep around them as John covered her, building her need for him to take her every which way he could think of. Spoil her for any other man. John had some fleeting afterthought of a promise he'd made to Sarah, but the memory soon faded as he pushed inside Cameron, groaning loudly as her legs wrapped around his waist, urging him on.

They felt more certain than ever that something was different; their previous encounters feeling trite compared to this. There was passion but it felt focussed and contained, just at the edge of feeling, their movements not frenzied or indelicate as they'd been before. Cameron opened her eyes and saw him smiling down at her, his skin aglow with colour as it began to shine with perspiration, his breathing reduced to sharp intakes that combined with her own.

Without even realising she released a sob as he pushed more forcefully against the narrow cradle of her hips, instinct breaking through as it sought their satisfaction. His lips found hers, kissing her in brief nips that circled her mouth, teasing her, making her need grow. Her hands drew languidly up his back, his neck, into the bristly locks of hair, gripping tightly, feeling its coarseness as she cupped his cheek.

Cameron had never felt so desirable, so normal, so _feminine_.

He moved his head down to whisper softly in her ear, his voice shaky. "You okay?"

Her eyes widened, he had asked with such genuine concern as he continued moving against her. She gazed up at him as his head rose up, his smile fading into a look of uncertainty, his motion slowing.

"Yes!" She said, nodding quickly, surprised at her own urgency.

She didn't want him to stop. He could do _anything_ but stop.

"I love you." The words escaped her mouth before she realised it.

She watched as John's face broke into his beautiful smile. "I love you too."

He kissed her fully as they resumed their age-old dance and there were no more words between them, replaced with primitive urgings and indelicate demands as John felt himself hurtle toward the edge before being catapulted over as Cameron reached her plateau. She yelled every obscenity she had ever heard toward the ceiling, rational programming corrupted beyond recognition as they both felt fate and destiny crash together inside her.

John was the first to recover as he lifted his face from the bedcovers, looking into Cameron's eyes where he saw his certainty confirmed. He kissed her more gently than he ever had, what he held in his arms more precious than anything.

"I'll be the best father I possibly can."

She smiled at him, never more in love. "I know you will."

* * *

_Well that's it. Let me know if you think it warrants a sequel. I was very tempted to end it on the previous chapter because it was such a beautiful ending._

_Thank you very much for all your positive support. It's been a great experience._


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